Lord Hear Our Prayer
by Deviant-Jubilant
Summary: Lucifer is risen, but he doesn't plan on being the only one. And so, Castiel decides to do a little recon for the Winchesters; a plan that could either bring about success, or a terrible climatic end. M/M, oneshot, Rated hard 'M' for mature. Lucifer/Cas


Took forever, but after a couple runs of a full playlist, a couple of sleepless nights, a cup of coffee, and a full 2 seasons marathon, this was put together. It isn't exactly… the _greatest_ piece I've done, but I think it's probably one of my favorites. (That makes me some sort of sick sadist, doesn't it? –cries-) Either way, this little ray of sunshine is a Lucifer/Castiel slash fic, inspired by the gorgeous artist *Fox4859 on Deviant art, and his picture which can be viewed here: .com/gallery/#/d2z377j

This fic is for you, Fox! Hope you, and those of you who read my work, enjoy it~!

Ciao! –Jubilant

.~_~_~_~_~_~.

Our heavenly Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come; thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread;

and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not unto temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory…. Forever.

.~_~_~_~_~_~.

Dark. Cold. Completely devoid of life. Perfect.

Lucifer smiled at the large warehouse, the building seeming to glitter in his eye like a glass chandelier hanging in the foyer of a million dollar mansion. He breathed in the cool, autumn night air before picking up the duffel bag at his feet. 'After all,' he thought with a small smile. 'It's almost show time.'

Lucifer hefted the duffel bag over his shoulder as he reached the warehouse doors, and he whistled whimsically at the giant lock that closed the doors, as if it were the gates of hell itself, and what lie behind it was a secret not known to man. He stared at the lock for a while before he took a deep breath and focused. He concentrated for a good couple of seconds before he heard a click and whirl, then the lock thudding to the ground at his feet. He smirked and re-adjusted the bag. "That was easy," he huffed. He pushed on the doors, and they opened with an eerie, high-pitched squeal. Lucifer clicked his tongue at the sound. 'Someone should really oil those things,' he thought dryly.

We wandered to the middle of the warehouse and was quite pleased and, if not a little surprised, to find a table there, with a wooden stool beside it. The table was small, but size wasn't exactly what mattered at the moment. He gently placed the duffel bag on the stool, and began to extract objects and plants from the darkness.

A cup, a knife, a bag that crunched when held, a few cream-white candles coupled with a lighter, and a smooth hide rolled up neatly found their way to the table. Lucifer looked over everything before bringing out the last item from the duffel. The bound leather book had aged rather well, and Lucifer had once again been pleased by the storage facilities of human beings. He fingered at the latch that held the cover closed, the leather string hanging at rest after over lying in wait for millennia. 'All for this,' Lucifer thought proudly. He set the book aside and, after rolling the hide out to show something that almost resembled a summoning sigil, lit the candles and placed them strategically around the cup, which he placed in the middle of the hide. He took the bag and opened it, taking a handful and dropping it into the cup. It was a spicy smell, and Lucifer quickly scrounged around in the smaller pockets of the duffel bag to bring out a bag containing a crushed, yellow substance. While the bag unopened seemed no special in ways of smell, once Lucifer opened said bag, the extremity of the smell would have been enough to call 'hell on earth'. Laughing at his own joke, Lucifer took the cup and tossed the herbs with the substance.

Very soon, the smell of sulfur, mixed with a hint of several spices and rare herbs, bloomed in the air. Lucifer smiled a secretive smile as he brought his arm out before him. He placed his arm directly above the copper cup and, with the knife he held in his other hand, sliced a gash into his arm. He didn't even flinch as his eyes took in the sight of the blood dripping upon the dry ingredients of the cup. He took a breath, closed his eyes, and chanted, in an almost mocking, arrogant tone of voice.

"_Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum_."

Lucifer opened his eyes, a smile playing on his thin lips. He was tired, the stress of the past week taking its toll on the vessel he currently occupied. 'But there is no time to rest,' he thought as he dismissed the feeling, re-adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as he set about the ritual. He placed the pads of his fingers on the hide that bore the ritualistic symbol, and breathed deeply. He looked to the heavens for a while before looking to the spell book beside him.

He read the text, his lips moving silently along with the words. As he reached the last word, his voice suddenly boomed through the warehouse. "Come forth, Beelzebul. My faithful prince; Rise and follow me as we reclaim-," his voice was cut off as a crackling filled the air and the lighting faltered. Lucifer's eyes rose from the tabletop, the rest of him still. There was silence as the cable that held the light fixture swung slightly, the light bulb flickering in and out. He heard a faint, piercing screech for a second, and a malicious smirk played across his lips. He knew what that meant.

He rolled his shoulders as the stale air of the warehouse was flushed away with fresher smelling air. It smelled like rain, baby powder, and the morning sun. Lucifer grimaced as he stood straight. "So, come to face me yourself, eh?" he called out. There was nothing but stillness as his eyes scanned the room. "Such a foolish attempt. You think I can not tell who you are?" he chuckled darkly, crossing his arms across his chest. "Your Grace may be waning, but you still have that air about you, that same scent that makes you so… unique."

The silence was all the answer Lucifer needed. He already _knew_ who had come to try and foil his plan. Why, he even _expected_ the other angel's arrival. "Castiel, my dear brother. Why not come out and play? I know you're alone…" he sneered into the darkness. "Your little boy-toy and his little abomination of a brother are not here. Are you here to join me? Or are you, perhaps, hoping to stop me?" he laughed out the last part, the mere mention of such a thing happening a complete joke.

"Why waste time on them?" Lucifer called out into the shadows. His eyes scanned the dark shapes that outlined crates, abandoned equipment, and the odd number of metal-shelves. Castiel had not left the building; he wouldn't, not with Lucifer there, and Lucifer knew why Castiel had come, had declared it to Castiel himself. However, he still smirked at how devoted Castiel was when it came to a goal, no matter the odds. "Those putrid sacks of flesh, those abominations that our Father put before us. Tell me, Castiel, why do you side with _them_?" He laughed lowly then as he saw a flutter up on the catwalk.

His brother thought he could just bust out the lights and then rain down from above, did he? His laughter intensified in volume, until it seemed his true voice was the one making the horrifically sweet sound. The entire building shook, the boxes and tools shuffling along the floor, and the windows burst one after another in a domino effect. Yet, Lucifer continued to laugh; until he heard an audible 'thump' behind him. He stopped to take a lungful of air before turning to see Castiel, groaning as he stumbled to his feet.

Lucifer made a small 'tsk' sound as he walked over to the angel, using his foot to push Castiel back to the ground. "Poor, poor Castiel," Lucifer began, his eyes scanning the angel for possible threats. "All alone with the 'big, bad wolf' are we?"

"I think you have the roles reversed, Lucifer," Castiel growled out as he swiftly got to his feet and moved his arm in an arc towards Lucifer's face. Lucifer took a step back, his eyes wide as he grabbed Castiel's wrist. He lifted the angel in the air, face to face, and Lucifer then realized what Castiel held, and had aimed with. In his hand was nothing other than an Archangel Killing Blade. Lucifer whistled in amazement as he reached up and yanked the Blade out of Castiel's hand. At the loss of the weapon, Castiel's fighting became more frantic, his eyes darting from the hand that held him aloft to the other that held his only chance of survival.

"What were you going to do with this?" Lucifer mused, slightly touching the Blade to Castiel's cheek and moved it slightly. Castiel winced as the Blade burned and cut the skin. Even if this was a vessel, he was in control, he was in the sensory pilot's seat; and the feel of that cool Blade slicing his skin was something he never wanted to feel in more extreme actions. Either way, he simply spit in Lucifer's face. "Rot in hell," he hissed through clenched teeth. Lucifer wiped the spit off with his shirt, laughing almost sardonically before lifting the angel higher then throwing him to the ground.

Castiel landed on his chest with a grunt. He growled ferally as he cracked open an eye. There, no more than a few feet away from him, was the Archangel Killing Blade. There was a pressure on his legs, and Castiel soon realized that Lucifer was straddling him, a wicked smile on his face. "Release me, you coward," Castiel snarled. "Oh, calling names are we?" Lucifer said, looking a bit taken aback. Castiel growled darkly, his eyes peeking over the shoulder of the tan trench coat he wore. Lucifer grinned directly at those eyes, and saw the murderous fire that burned in that tired yet vigilant glare.

"Do _not_ make me say it again," Castiel snarled, his teeth bared as his brow darkened. Lucifer couldn't help the guffaw that left his lips. "Or what, little brother? You'll smite me right here and now?" he smiled, one of his hands' fingers tracing shapes on Castiel's back. "No. You don't have what it takes. You don't have the juice… the _power_ that is required to defeat me." Lucifer scoffed, his fingers playing at the place that he knew so well on the body… the juncture of an angel's wings to the body, whether ethereal or vessel.

Castiel jerked away from the touch, and Lucifer knew he had done something. He always did. "Now," he muttered, leaning forward to whisper into Castiel's ear. "I'm going to make you a deal. And whether you refuse or accept is your business… but don't come crying to me when the… _consequences_ appear to you." He spoke softly, rhythmically, tactically… his voice burrowing into Castiel's subconscious, angelic mind; and Castiel couldn't help but just stare forwards and listen, his body still as a statue.

Lucifer chuckled. "Now, now, there's no reason to be scared," he said as he leaned back a bit. "All you have to do, is follow my instructions, yes?" Fearing the Morningstar's words of 'consequence,' Castiel nodded stiffly, his eyes never meeting Lucifer's. There was a moment's silence, and Castiel began to wonder just what was going through Lucifer's mind… or if he even _wanted_ to know.

"Show your wings."

Castiel jerked forward before looking back at Lucifer. "Excuse me?" he bellowed, his eyes wide. "Show. Me. Your. Wings. It's not that hard, Castiel," Lucifer spoke slowly, as if talking to a small child who did not understand that 'Holly's snack wasn't Tony's.' Castiel stared at him, flabbergasted as Lucifer stared back, his eyes never leaving Castiel's face, and his hand never leaving his back. Finally, with a sound of defeat, Castiel twisted back around and propped himself up on his forearms. He clasped his hands before his face as if he was to pray, and his shoulders hunched upwards as his wings unfurled and stretched. The usually spectral feathers became tangible, and Lucifer stared at the wings in wonder as they beat against the air gently before folding against Castiel's back.

"They're magnificent," Lucifer muttered softly, his hand leaving Castiel's back to touch the wing in, what seemed, complete wonder and fascination. Castiel shuddered as Lucifer ran his hand over the wing, his face content as he felt each feather with almost accurate precision. Castiel's other wing again beat against the air, quivering and outstretched. Lucifer noticed that Castiel had gone quiet, and with a wicked grin, buried his fingers into the warm down and the silky under feathers.

Castiel moaned aloud as Lucifer took hold of and stroked the pristine feathers. Lucifer crooned as he leaned down, over the angel and nipped at his earlobe, before Castiel hunched his shoulders to hide from the mouth. Lucifer chuckled as he dug his fingers into the base of Castiel's wings, stroking and tugging lightly at the bunch of feathers that connected the wings to the vessel.

"Do you ever imagine doing this with… Dean?" Lucifer asked huskily. Castiel gasped and whirled on Lucifer, shooting death glares. "Don't you _dare_ talk about Dean. You will leave him out of any of this." Lucifer chuckled, his hand still working the angel's wing. "Dean's already a part of this, darling. There's nothing you, or anyone can do about it. It's pre-written," he muttered off, leaning forward to kiss Castiel. The angel growled and turned away, Lucifer's lips instead finding the angel's temple. Lucifer snorted at the defiance and moved his hand down the wing, towards the juncture on Castiel's back.

Castiel shivered involuntarily, a small, involuntary moan emerging from his throat. Lucifer's eyes were dark now and his lips were curled in a smile that could put the Cheshire Cat to shame. His hand worked the feathers, massaging the skin as he worked his way up to the pivoting joint on the wing. Both wings were shaking as Castiel placed his hot forehead on the cool ground and moaned.

Lucifer once again leaned down, his curved lips mere inches from Castiel's ear as he drawled on. "Don't think I haven't seen it, Castiel. Those… looks that you have for the Winchester boys. The slight partiality for the younger, the lust for the older," he chuckled as Castiel stiffened and he nuzzled the crook of Castiel's neck. "Oh yes, I've seen them before, younger brother." Castiel gave a broken sound at the invasion of privacy, the utter nakedness that he felt at Lucifer's words. Lucifer's free hand massaged his back and shoulder as he continued. "And, you know what? I don't blame you. The boy certainly has a sort of… vintage charm. Oh no, not the type of charm _I'm_ looking for. At least, not in the sense of fighting…." He licked his lips as Castiel shuddered in rage laced with pleasure.

Lucifer's hand slid beneath Castiel, stroking his chest through his shirt. Castiel twisted in Lucifer's grasp, struggling to free himself. The angel gasped as Lucifer's long fingers swirled circles around his nipples, the thin fabric of the dress shirt doing nothing to protect against the sensation. He whimpered as Lucifer made a cooing sound, his hand trailing further downwards. The Morningstar's hand lingered on his stomach before fingering at the dress pants that Castiel's vessel had chosen before allowing the angel control of his body.

Castiel was in a panic as he reached for the Archangel Blade. It was just short of his fingers when he felt Lucifer's hand once again stroke his wing, threading his fingers through the fine feathers. He grit his teeth as he once again stretched his body, his fingertips gently touching the hilt of the Blade. He wriggled underneath Lucifer, and his hand grasped the Blade at the same time that the Morningstar's hand snaked down the dress pants and grabbed at his groin forcefully. Castiel made a choked sound, his teeth snapping shut at the pain. "Let's not have any of that," Lucifer murmured, his other hand still thumbing through Castiel's feathers. Castiel jerked away from the touch, his teeth clenched shut as he breathed heavily. The angel made a distraught sound as Lucifer's hand moved, far more gently, over his groin, and he felt the vessel's instincts take over, the sin that he most feared and loathed.

"Aw, is little brother turned on from me playing with his wings?" Lucifer chuckled as he gripped Castiel's hardening cock. Castiel keened as he tilted his head down, breathing deeply. "In fact, if I wasn't in such a hurry, I'd opt to fuck you myself," Lucifer breathed, his hand moving in slow motions across Castiel's flesh. Castiel shuddered at the words, shrinking into himself as he fought against the onslaught of what humans called 'pleasure'.

Lucifer chuckled at the naïve actions of the angel, nuzzling and nipping at Castiel's neck. "And I'd make you want it, too. Oh yes, Castiel, you'd _love_ it. I'd have you on your back, aching and wanton, begging for me." Lucifer muttered huskily, leaving small love-bites down Castiel's neck and shoulder.

Castiel bucked into Lucifer's hand, his breathing becoming shallow as lust overtook his actions. Lucifer grinned as he suckled at Castiel's neck, his thumb gently massaging the tip of Castiel's cock. "Cry for me, Castiel."

"L-Lucifer," Castiel moaned, his eyes a dark blue as his face showed his growing ecstasy. Lucifer simply hummed in response as he quickened his hand's pace on the angel, biting harshly at Castiel's neck, breaking skin and causing bruising. Castiel hissed in pain as he gave a final thrust of his hips before he came, a low, guttural groan following. "There now," Lucifer said, his hand retreating from the angel. "Now wasn't that nice?" he crooned. Castiel coughed, whether through tears or to clear his throat, Lucifer did not know. What he _did_ know, however, was that this little one-sided orgy fest was not the reason Castiel showed up. "So," he hummed in thought. "Have you reconsidered my offer about joining me? Can't be much worse than the situation you're in now, huh, Castiel?" The angel took a few deep breaths, composing himself before he gave his answer.

"Never." Castiel spat, glaring at Lucifer over his shoulder, his cheeks still a faint shade of pink. That was it for Lucifer. The smile vanished from his face to be replaced by an emotionless scowl, his eyes murderous as he gripped the younger angel's right wing possessively.

Castiel let out a bark of surprise as he began to fight against Lucifer's hold, his eyes wide as Lucifer bared his teeth, his hand clenching the wing. "If you will not join me, then I shall make you fall a _different_ way," he seethed as he pressed down on Castiel's back and pulled on the wing in his hand.

Castiel cried out in pain as Lucifer wrenched harshly on the wing, holding the joint tightly while he kept his other hand on Castiel's back. Lucifer gripped the joint and, with a grunt of effort, yanked once more. White flashed before Castiel's eyes as skin and tendon broke, and he once again screamed as the thin layer of flesh on his right wing was almost completely torn, exposing the bone that now connected the two pieces still covered in feathers.

Blood streamed over the feathers as Castiel threw his head up, his eyes now scrunched closed in pain. He gripped the Archangel Killing Blade and swore loudly.

This was pure agony.

Being beaten to a pulp, he could deal with. Being blown to bits by angry archangels and brought back, though painful and strength consuming, he could deal with, as well. But being pushed into the floor face-first by Lucifer, his older brother and the Devil, with his hand gripped tightly around the thing that could very well kill him, yet not being able to; and all the while, having Lucifer actually _pulling out_ his wings… now _that_ was torturous.

"Lucifer… Lucifer, stop!" Castiel tried, his entire body shaking in pain as the Morningstar twisted the wing in sadistic fascination, watching the last parts of muscle snap and new streams of blood flow from either piece of said wing, before jerking his wrist to the side, snapping the bone in two. Castiel screamed louder, his throat burning as he cried endlessly for mercy. Lucifer simply laughed. He laughed at the helpless angel below him, at the blood that fell from the torn appendage to pool beside Castiel, at the growing stain that another trail of blood was creating on Castiel's trench coat, the red substance staining the tan fabric. It almost reminded him of what this act was currently doing to the angel's Grace.

'Or, what ever is left of it,' Lucifer thought with malevolence at the sullen, whimpering angel beneath him. Castiel whimpered in pain as a tear fell down his cheek slowly. "Aww, is baby brother crying?" Lucifer asked mockingly as he leant forward and licked away the tear. As he did, another took its place, then another, until Castiel was crying in defeat from the pain of his destroyed wing.

Lucifer crooned for him to be quiet and, at the feeling of Lucifer's other hand on his unharmed wing, Castiel quieted to a soft whimper, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. Lucifer smirked. "That's it, Castiel. You wouldn't want your other wing to be hurt, would you?" he teased as he kissed the corner of Castiel's eye, then his temple as he sat straight again.

He looked down at the wing in his hand and, with a small, unintelligible sound, simply threw it before both of them. Castiel's body froze at the sight of his wing mere inches from him, the knuckles on his hand that still gripped the Archangel Killing Blade now white. It pleased a part of Lucifer, and he wanted more of that terrified, absolutely petrified look of the angel of Thursday. 'But I must save that for another day,' he thought remorsefully as he wiped his hand on Castiel's trench coat, further covering the coat in the angel's beautiful red blood.

He stood with a grunt, yet Castiel remained where he was, his back bloody as his one good wing beat hopelessly against the ground. He could see that Castiel's jaw was locked, and he laughed deep in his chest.

"Now, don't worry, little Castiel. I've never had my wings torn, but I'm sure with what's left of your Grace, you can mend yourself up a _little_." Lucifer grinned broadly as Castiel's hunched shoulders shook in fear, his arms now covering his face as he fought back tears. Whether it was at the mention of his waning Grace, or what the Morningstar had just done to the poor angel, Lucifer was not certain. But what he did know, as he strolled out of the warehouse, was that this would not be the last he would see of Castiel.


End file.
